Clair de lune: A Love Story
by Lies-Taste-Sweeter-Than-Truth
Summary: I know we said we wouldn’t, but I did.
1. Chapter One

Claire de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter One**

I know we said we wouldn't, but I did.

It was always your idea to not keep in touch anyway, and I got tired of it.

Especially now.

Do you remember when you first told me you loved me? We were in the middle of a Muggle paint shop, arguing about which shade of cream to paint the bathroom, and then you looked at me funnily, cocked your head to one side and told me you loved me.

It was one of those precious moments when you really let down your guard and for once in your life say what you _really_ feel. The way you looked at me made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, if only for a moment.

Then you told me we could get the colour I wanted.

O

I read about you in the paper sometimes.

I know your life has moved on and up without me, and sometimes I find it hard to believe that you were once the man I was in love with. But then I suppose it is impossible to stay the same forever. We can never go back to the way we were, and occasionally – very occasionally – I think that it's a good thing, really.

But wouldn't it be wonderful if we could? Those lazy, carefree days filled with picnics in the middle of London, and spending all day in bed, happy just to be near each other and talking like there was no tomorrow.

I never ran out of things to say to you.

O

"If you could be any animal, what would you be?" You asked.

I glanced at you over my book, and saw you sprawled on the floor, looking at the photo albums.

I took my time in answering, and it didn't look like you were waiting for my answer, but I knew you were. "A nightingale, probably."

You were watching me out the corner of your eye, and I pretended to be engrossed in my book, though my eye hadn't left the word 'old' for about three minutes.

There was silence, and I knew what you were doing. You were playing that game when you decide that you're above doing something because someone wants you to do it. I knew the look on your face. You wanted me to ask, and you wanted to know why I'd given you the answer I did, but you'd never say a word.

I sighed and returned to my book.

It must have been at least half-an-hour later, during which I had got through about a page of my book, while trying to suppress my giggles. Your jaw had tightened, you lips were a thin line and your knuckles were white against the box you were clutching.

"What would you be?" You let out a breath I knew you'd been holding, and the colour (what little you have) returned to your cheeks. I didn't bother stopping myself from laughing this time.

"What's so funny?" You asked, still looking slightly strained.

"You are." I replied, smiling.

You raised one, thin eyebrow reproachfully. "I'd be a wolf."

I was genuinely surprised. "Why?"

"Because they're strong enough to protect who and what they want." You were very determinedly not looking at me. "And when they choose a partner, they choose one they're going to spend the rest of their life with."

O

I know I haven't said much, but next time I'll try and make more sense.

I hope you read this.

Hermione.

**A/N: I was inspired when I listened to Clair de Lune for what must have been the millionth time. (Yes, I'm cool enough for that to be one of my all time favourite songs.) The story came after the ending, so be patient, my inspiration will become clear much, much nearer the finish.**

**The fic will be comprised of a series of letters.**

**  
That's all I'm saying, and sorry this wasn't much of an introduction! Don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter Two

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Two**

I never would have pictured you as spontaneous.

Mind you, you normally weren't.

Normally, you'd run things over and over in your mind, thinking things through until your eyes began to feel heavy and you'd realise you hadn't eaten all day.

But every now and then, you'd show up on my doorstep, with that look in your eye that made me want to throw my arms around you and kiss you forever and a day… and then run in the other direction as fast as I could.

I think it must have been at least ten o'clock when you knocked on my door. I was ready for bed, (you always said I went to bed too early) my hair was in a ponytail – my curls flying every which way – and you took one look at me and laughed. I blushed – as usual – and asked you what you wanted.

You told me to dress up.

So I did.

O

"Where are we _really_ going though?" I asked for the hundredth time.

We were on a train somewhere, and the light was on, making it completely impossible to see out the window.

"You'll see."

There was silence for a few minutes as I contemplated how I would get the answer out of you. There was always sex, but that was a coward's exit.

I crossed my arms and sat back in my seat. "Fine."

You had that 'holier-than-thou' air about you that I hate, but there was amusement in your eyes. "Fine what?" Your voice was mocking me too.

"Fine… I don't want to know."

"Oh. Okay."

"I mean, it's not like where you're taking me is going to be anywhere nice. Last time you took me out, I thought we were going to a nice restaurant, and we ended up at Ron's flat with a takeaway pizza. My hopes aren't high."

You regarded me for some time. "Okay."

I glared at you. "Fine."

"Fine what?"

"As long as _you_ think that kind of treatment is tolerable-"

"'Treatment'? What are you talking about? I'm not taking you to the _zoo_, Granger, so stop making it sound like I ordered you onto this train held at gunpoint!"

I was silent for a while as you calmed down a little, taking deep breaths. "Well the zoo would be your idea of fun wouldn't, Peter Pan?"

Your usually smooth brow was creased in confusion. "I'm assuming that this 'Peter Pan' you speak of is a Muggle invention, so I will not dignify that sentence with an answer."

"Only because you don't understand it."

Your jaw clenched. "That wasn't what I said."

I giggled. "Doesn't make it any less true."

You were very tense, and your back was ramrod straight. "I chose not to answer it purely because it seemed to me like an insult. Correct me if I'm wrong."

There was silence.

"Exactly. It was a poor attempt, Granger, I expected better of you."

I scowled. "So where are we going?"

You relaxed into a grin that made my chest tighten.

"You'll see."

O

You took me to Lyon.

I'd never been to France, even though it had been my plan to go years and years before, I'd never made it.

You always said Paris was nice, but overrated. So you took me to Lyon.

And it was beautiful.

O

"We're here."

"I can see that." I replied, somewhat icily.

You offered me your arm. "Shall we?"

The station opened straight out onto the city, and the houses were so close I could see straight into windows. A couple in the house immediately opposite the station were curled up on the sofa with a toddler between them, and they were all asleep.

A siren was piercing the night air, and there was so much light.

Everywhere I turned, I could see it, pouring out of windows, or shop fronts, or streetlamps, and even the stars seemed to shine brighter than they did in London.

I could feel your eyes on me, and the corner of your mouth was twitching.

"What's so funny?" I asked, nudging you.

"You are."

I sighed. "Do you have a particular destination in mind, or shall we wander the streets and alleyways all night long?"

"Both. We're having dinner first, and then we can satisfy the romantic in you and walk along the moonlit river."

"I'm not a romantic!"

"You're more romantic than I am."

"A frog would be more romantic than you, it's not hard."

"What's the point in being so involved in a feeling that might not even be real? You can 'love' anything, it's just a word that describes an emotion."

I sighed. It hurt me when you said things like that, but I knew that you did love me, in the way that only you can. "Where are we going to dinner then?"

O

Paul Bocuse. You took me to Paul Bocuse's restaurant. It wasn't even a special occasion, and you took me to eat at one of the most expensive eateries in Lyon! (I didn't actually know it was that expensive until Ginny told me afterwards, but still.)

I'd never seen you like I did that night. I'm not really sure I ever did again, either.

You were completely alive, like your heart was beating twice as fast as it normally did. I could see the fire behind your eyes, and you spoke with a passion that astonished me.

You weren't especially excited, but everything about you screamed 'life,' like it never had.

I'm not saying you weren't alive when I usually saw you, because that would be ridiculous, but this was different.

You were alive.

There's really no other way to explain it.

Hermione


	3. Chapter Three

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Three**

It surprises me sometimes, how clearly I remember every tiny little thing about you.

Even the things that _you_ probably didn't notice.

You never smiled with your mouth. You smiled with your eyes.

O

"We did it! We really did it!" I yelled.

"Calm down, Hermione, you'll wake the whole street."

I ran over to Harry and threw my arms around him. "But Harry, we did it! Actually did it!"

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, all you did was win a game of Quidditch. Nothing to write home about, you know." Your cold voice was familiar even then, and my stomach dropped and my heart clenched all the same time.

"Look who decided to show his sorry little arse for once." I spat. "There really is no need to burst my bubble, _Malfoy_. And let's be honest, this really has nothing to do with you, so can't you just go back to whichever sorry little bar you just left, drink yourself into oblivion and leave with some seedy tart?"

I immediately regretted my words. You were in front of me in a second, your eyes flashing dangerously. "Is that really your opinion of me? A womanising drunk? Really, Granger, open your eyes and leave those school-yard prejudices where they belong. In the school-yard."

You span round and stormed out, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron and I staring after you.

"I didn't… I mean, it wasn't… like that." I whispered faintly, a stricken look on my face. "Oh my… what was that?"

"Don't look at me; you're the one that said it." Ron raised his arms in surrender.

Feeling returned to the lower half of my body and I tore out the room after you.

You were sitting under a tree about half-a-mile away from the house. Your legs were drawn up to you chest and there were tears running down your cheeks. I was more afraid of you then than I was when you were shouting.

"I hate it. I hate what I am. You're right. I'm barely sober these days and there is always a slut in my bed with her legs open." Your voice was gravelly and low, your hands were shaking. "And I don't know what to do. Now everything's finished, the stupid war is won, there's nothing for me to do. I may as well just crawl into a hole and cry forever."

I sat down beside you and told you a story. The Muggle one about the princess who slept for a hundred years before being awakened by a kiss. Then I told you about Cinderella, who went from rags to riches overnight.

At the end of Aladdin, I looked sideways at you and saw you looking at me.

Your face was almost entirely blank, except for your eyes. They were sparkling, but the tears had gone.

"A genie in a lamp? Are you kidding?"

O

I haven't ever pretended that I was some sort of enigma that rushed into your life and sorted out all your problems.

That's not what I was.

I'm perfectly aware that there were massive parts of your life that I didn't even know existed.

Sometimes I found out more about you when I was reading the paper than when I was actually talking to you.

I was a break.

An oasis of calm that you turned to when everything else in your life was slowly falling to pieces.

But I did know about the one thing you wanted to keep a secret more than anything.

O

"'_Pansy Parkinson died today at three minutes past four in the afternoon in St. Mungo's after giving birth to a baby girl. The child died seven minutes later.' _"

"Parkinson had a kid?" Ron exclaimed.

"Well not for long, apparently. And do try to be a little bit considerate, Ronald. She died giving birth. I didn't even know that happened anymore…" I trailed away.

"It's not supposed to." Harry frowned, and reached across the table and picked up the _Prophet_. "Obviously somebody wasn't doing their job, or… or there was something wrong with the mother. Either way, we could've avoided this. I should go in and fire someone. See you later, guys." He shoved the last crust of toast in his mouth, glugged down some coffee and walked out the kitchen door.

"I should go." Ron looked gloomily at the clock. "Wish I could just sit here all day like you do, though, sounds way better that sitting in a cramped office for eight hours and listen to Muggles complain about their teeth."

I smiled and gave him a gentle push towards the door. "I do not spend all my time just sitting around doing nothing! I edit books, Ron. I sit around and read books and then I make them better. It's an extremely-"

"Worthwhile job, right." Ron rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'm going. Still up for takeaway tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything."

O

I don't know what made me go. It must have been at least two weeks later, but it had been nagging at me for that long, a feeling at the back of my mind that compelled me to make my peace with Pansy Parkinson.

Harry told me that she was being buried in a cemetery (Muggle, surprisingly) near her childhood home. Nobody could work out why she hadn't been saved, and there were no records anywhere that anyone could find of the birth and consequent death.

The trainee-healer had been questioned under the influence of Veritaserum, and his story had been true; he had left both mother and baby happy about half-an-hour before their demise.

Nobody could work out what had happened.

But I went to see her.

O

They were at the top of a slight hill, facing each other, glinting in the evening sun.

And you were there.

"Malfoy?"

You looked up sharply, and I gasped. You were a mess. "What is it, Granger? Come to insult me here as well?"

I didn't know what to think. Were you here to desecrate the body of your Hogwarts girlfriend? Ravish her one last time?

"Just go, Granger. Why are you even here?" You muttered, though I don't think you wanted an answer.

I was about to do just as you'd asked – I was beginning to loose sight of why I'd come in the first place – when the smaller headstone caught my eye.

'_In memory of Pia Florence Parkinson-Malfoy,_

_Loved and cherished daughter of Draco and Pansy.'_

"Oh God…" It felt like I'd run straight into a brick wall. All the air had gone out of my lungs and I couldn't breath to replace it.

"Just fuck off, Granger! I don't need your pity, okay? So just fuck off back to your high horse and leave me to regret every single fucking thing I've ever done!"

"Draco, I had no idea…"

"About what, my wife or my daughter? _'Draco, I had no idea'_." You mimicked. "Of course you fucking didn't, nobody did. Stupid fucking Pansy, didn't know what was good for her…" You groaned and pushed your knuckles into your eyes.

There was silence for a few minutes and I seriously considered leaving you there, but instead I plonked myself down beside you and put an arm round your waist. You stiffened at the touch, but you didn't shove me away (or turn me into a frog, which was closer to what I'd been expecting). "What happened?"

You sniffed. "She killed Pia."

I nearly laughed, but caught myself just in time. "What?"

"My wife killed my daughter and then killed herself." This time I really did gasp. You regarded me with a look I couldn't place. "Just when you thought I couldn't get any more messed up, enter murderess wife…" You laughed humourlessly.

"Draco, I don't mean to sound… well, like me, but are you sure? I mean, murder is awful, but your own _child_­-" I stopped when I saw your face.

You really looked like you wanted to die right then and there, in the most painful way possible. "She told me she was going to do it. She told me to say goodbye to Pia, because she was taking her where nothing could hurt her. I just laughed at her and left. I knew she wasn't happy, but I never even _considered_… that."

After a minute or two, I put my head on your shoulder and asked you what your favourite colour was.

You said you didn't have a favourite colour.

I said I didn't either.

Then we sat there, my hair getting slowly wet with your tears as the day wore on.

O

We never spoke about Pia after that day, but I went to the hill sometimes and left some flowers, and occasionally I thought about what she would look like, and how different you would be with a child… but I don't think you thought about it as much as me.

I think you tried very hard not to.

Afterwards, we were not quite together, but as I said, I was your oasis.

I think I quite liked it.

I _know_ I quite liked it.

Hermione.

**A/N: Not the fluffy romantic chapter I'd hoped for, but I'm actually finding it tricky to stick to my own rules (laid down in "Dramione: The Truth Behind The Obsession"). Let me know what you think!**

**Also, Harry is supposed to be a Healer, if, you know, anyone didn't get that. And all the bits where Hermione is reminiscing are in different times. The first one here is (chronologically) after the second, which is set when they are about nineteen/twenty.**


	4. Chapter Four

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Four**

Well, you haven't written back yet.

Yet.

O

I can pinpoint the exact moment when I fell for you.

I'd always scoffed at the girls who believed in the lightening bolt type of love, but with you?

I'd expected the slow to arrive, caring affection I'd had with a few others… but no.

We were having an argument.

Of course.

O

"Shut up, Malfoy! The Ministry is completely wrong! They can't just pass laws without consulting people-"

"Yes they can! That's why we call them the Ministry of Magic! They make the laws!" You yelled back at me.

"But it's ridiculous! There must be some sort of democracy, something that lets someone else have a say… it's a government! Isn't the point of a government to look after the people?"

"No! The purpose of the Ministry is to make sure that the Muggles don't discover us, and that is exactly what this new law is for. It-"

"That's not what it's for!" I was red in the face and close to tears. "It's an act of oppression, not of love!"

"For Christ's sake, Granger, nobody ever said that the Ministry _loved_ us! I said that their job was to protect us-"

"Protect?" I shrieked. "From who? _Muggles?_"

"Granger."

"WHAT?"

"I think you should sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."

I sat down.

You made me some tea.

And I fell in love.

O

I didn't think we would lead anywhere.

You knew me, I knew you, you're a boy and I'm a girl.

And apparently, that was enough.

O

"Remind me why we're here again?" Harry asked, his teeth chattering.

"Yeah, Hermione, I'm freezing my left buttock off here."

"You're left buttock?" Harry looked at his best friend, interested. "Why not the right?"

Ron had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I, er, have a whole in these trousers, but it's on the left side, so there's, er, a bit of a _breeze_."

Harry's bark of laughter made Ginny start and she scowled. "Ron, there is no need for you to share that kind of information with us."

"Harry asked!"

"Guys, shut up, it's starting…"

There was silence for almost a minute.

"Hermione, nothing is happening."

"That's not true, there's an ant crawling up my leg." Harry pointed out.

"Can't you be patient for just a little while? Let's just sit here and wait." I replied.

"For what?"

"For you to grow up, Ronald." Ginny growled.

Harry chuckled.

There was silence for almost thirty seconds.

"Look, I'm not saying tha-"

"Ron!" I broke out. "All I want to do is watch the sun come up. You can go if you want."

"No, I want to stay." Ron said quietly.

There was silence for at least three minutes.

"Something is happening…" Harry said softly.

"Yeah, I know, that ant is really going for it."

"No, Ron, look, over there."

Ron looked.

There was silence for about half an hour.

You smiled into my hair.

I scowled.

Money exchanged hands.

O

Hermione.

**A/N: It's been too long, and I'm sorry, I really am. Combination of lack of inspiration and distraction in the form of school work. Back on track though! Reviews treasured, as usual!**


	5. Chapter Five

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Warning: ADULT THEMES.**

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Five**

You were in the paper today.

Something about a charity ball you hosted.

Lucius was mentioned.

O

"Ready?" You asked.

I mutely shook my head.

You laughed and knocked on the door.

O

When you told me your dad wanted to meet me, I choked on my toast.

O

The door swung open almost as soon as your hand touched it.

"Draco. Miss Granger. Welcome. Please come in."

You took my hand in yours, and together, we stepped into the dark.

O

Everything about you past scared me.

There was the obvious; and then there was something else.

Something that was never mentioned out loud, but I could feel it every time I touched you.

And it scared me to death.

O

"More tea, Miss Granger?" Your father asked me.

"Oh, thank you. And please, call me Hermione."

We were in one of the many living rooms of your childhood home, and you were sat on the sofa next to me, between your father and me.

You were looking at him like you expected him to implode any second.

"So, Dad, have you visited Mother recently?"

"Yes, I was there last week. She's marvellous. There was real improvement. And she loves the new place. Oh, yes. Marvellous. Absolutely marvellous."

You exhaled slowly. "Good."

No one spoke for some time.

"I take it Mrs Malfoy won't be joining us then?" I asked, tentatively.

It all happened very suddenly, and I'm not even sure I saw what really happened.

Your father broke the tea cup he was holding, and while the handle remained clutched tightly in his hands, the cup fell to the floor.

Your eyes darkened and you watched as the tea slowly stain the carpet it had fallen onto.

I gasped at least a minute too late, and Lucius' head snapped up. He was grinning madly, showing too many teeth and there was a glint in his eye that hadn't been there a second before.

"Shit." You muttered. You pulled me up by my wrist and stood in front of me. "Dad, Mum's not here. You know where she is. She's _not here_. Dad?"

"Your mother? Don't be ridiculous, Draco, she's right there, standing behind you. Where else would she be?" He laughed, but I knew that nothing about this situation was funny.

Very slowly, I turned my head to catch a glimpse of Narcissa, but there was nothing there except the fireplace.

"Shit." You said again. "Hermione, listen to me. You need to get out. You need to get out as fast as you can, but you need to tell Lucius something first. Tell him you're going to floo the caterers about tomorrow evening. Call him by his first name. Do it _now_ and then get out."

For a few seconds I couldn't do anything at all, but then you elbowed me in the ribs and in a very high voice I choked out "Lucius, dear, I'm just going to floo the caterers about tomorrow evening. I decided on the prawns after all, but I need to confirm numbers…"

He glanced up from his armchair and scrutinised me. "Did the Notts reply in the end?"

All the blood in my body was rushing to one point in my head and I felt faint. "Yes, they did. Can I get you anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Though could you send Draco in? I need to speak to him about this letter from Hogwarts." The blond haired man bent his head again to read his imaginary copy of the _Prophet_ and his eyes moved back and forth, reading words that were not there.

O

I don't know what happened. You never mentioned it after that night, and even then all you said was "I'm sorry you had to see that. I won't make the mistake of taking you there again."

But I went.

I never told you, but I went about six months later, while you were at work.

O

"Miss Granger! What a pleasant surprise!" Your father answered the door himself, and he looked genuinely pleased to see me. "Please, come in. I'm afraid I've just eaten, and I sent Hilda away, but if you wanted something to eat-"

"Oh, no, Mr Malfoy, please. I'm sorry this is so impromptu, but I get the feeling that Draco neglects you most of the time, so here I am." He laughed, and this time I felt the humour.

O

When I say your secret went unmentioned, I meant between the two of us.

O

"Mr Malfoy-"

He waved his hand impatiently. "Lucius, please."

I smiled politely.

"Lucuis, could you tell me about Draco's mother?"

I was well aware of my situation. I was alone with a dangerous man, whom the last time I had seen had lost his grip on reality.

"His mother? Doesn't he mention her?"

"Well, occasionally, but only in passing. I know something happened, but I just wondered if you knew what." I went on.

"Ah."

He didn't speak for a good five minutes, choosing instead to gaze out of the window on his left.

"Draco's mother – my wife – is not a good woman. She was not kind to my son when he was a boy."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He seemed to not have heard my question. "I know you think that our entire family is forever on the wrong side of the law, but this is different." He paused. "You must understand that I never laid a finger on my wife or my son. They were my whole world. But Narcissa…"

I waited.

"She grew _weary_ of being inside the Manor all day, and she longed to meet new people, but rather than meeting them, she… _invented_ them. And as Draco was the only one who could stand to be in her presence for more than a few minutes, he became her new life."

At the back of my mind, somewhere too far back for me to go, the truth was lurking, and I knew only too well that I didn't want to know what it was.

"At first, he didn't understand why his mother addressed him by funny names, and never seemed to recognise him as her son, but as time went by, he realised what was wrong with her. And by then, apologies for any dramatics, Miss Granger, it was too late."

I was clutching the arms of my chair so hard that my knuckles were white, and all the blood had rushed to the bottom of my feet.

"Tell me what he did to her." I whispered, staring at a spot on the wall behind Lucius' head.

For the first time since my arrival, he appeared to be having second thoughts about telling me.

"Please, Mr Malfoy."

"My wife, Draco's mother, throughout his childhood, forced him to have sexual intercourse with her."

O

We never mentioned it.

I got home before you did, and I never even told you I'd been out.

I kept visiting him, right up until he died.

You never could understand why I was so upset.

O

"I knew my wife was mad. I have never been able to forgive myself for not taking more of an interest in my son's change, something that I put down to adolescence, and I know he has not yet forgiven me." I tried to interrupt, but he held up a hand to stop me. "We committed her when he was fifteen, but the doctors were in agreement. My wife was never coming back to us. All that was left was a raping, raving wreck."

O

I'm sorry I never told you I knew.

We could've talked about it.

Why did you never tell me?

Hermione.


	6. Chapter Six

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Six**

It's been a while.

I thought you might have written back.

So I waited.

Maybe this one's the one.

O

"…and do you remember that time we went to New Zealand? It was supposed to be in the summer, but we couldn't afford it, so we went in November instead." I hiccupped. "It was fun though."

I was drunk.

It was Christmas.

"Auntie Hermione, can we open our presents yet?"

"No, no, your parents aren't back. And it's not even ten o'clock! When I was your age, I had to go to church, make lunch, go for a walk, eat lunch, and only _then_ were we allowed to unwrap our presents. Maybe we could all do that this year?" I suggested.

Lily, who was 'asleep' on my lap, raised her head and wrinkled her nose at me. "Auntie," she yawned. "Not in olden days no more. Open presents now!"

I sighed. "Not until Harry and Ginny get back. Now, who wants to help Auntie make the gravy?" I looked expectantly at Ron, whose eyes were closed and he was snoring quietly.

"Just me? Well, I suppose nobody wants to know Auntie's top secret, extra-special recipe then." I shook my head in mock defeat.

Albus' ears visibly pricked up. "Top secret?"

"Extra-special?" James repeated.

"Oh yes." I nodded vehemently. "And there's a-" I broke off, glanced around the room and dropped my voice to a whisper. "There's a _secret ingredient._"

Lily gasped.

Albus sat up very quickly.

Even James looked mildly impressed.

"Lily want to help! Lily want to help!" The small girl shrieked.

I looked surprised. "Oh! So you _do_ want to help?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

I smiled and walked into the kitchen, stumbling slightly as I went.

O

You never seemed to want to spend Christmas with us.

Before Lucius died, you went back to the Manor, but after that, you just disappeared from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day.

O

"Careful, James, that's hot!" I cried, just as James dropped the pan full of gravy he was holding and yelled in pain.

"James! Now look what you've done! Oh, Lily, it's not _that_ big a stain, we just need to put it in to soak. Albus, what _are_ you doing? Just clear the gravy up, don't eat it! Lily, dear, now is not really the time- James! James, get down from there!"

The door opened on me tugging at James' legs, who was swinging from the curtain rail, and using my foot to wipe a cloth across the mess of gravy.

"Hermione…?" Harry began.

"Oh, Harry, Ginny, you're back! That means we can open presents!" I said in a very strained voice, sweeping a strand of hair back from my eyes.

"Presents! Yay!"

O

I wasn't brilliant with children, but I loved them.

You hated everything about them, but every child you met was instantly devoted to you.

O

"For God's sake, why won't you come? It's just like any other Sunday; we'll go there, eat lunch, talk, drink lots of wine, laugh and then go to bed!"

"But it's _not_ any other Sunday, is it? It's _Christmas_, Granger!"

"And so WHAT?" I screamed. "It's a time for family, but I don't think we've ever actually spent Christmas Day in the same place! Why do you hate it so much?"

You didn't answer for a very long time.

"You just said it."

"What?"

"You said it. Christmas is a time for family. I don't _have_ a family. Why should I pretend that I do?"

It felt like a hundred knives were stabbing me all at once, over and over.

"You don't have a family?" I whispered. "Then what am I? Well, Malfoy? WHAT THE FUCK AM I?"

You looked thunderstruck as you realised what you had said.

"Hermione, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Shut up!" There were tears running down my cheeks faster and faster. "Just shut up! You said it! That's fine, now I know. We can just move on with our lives." I started to turn away.

"Granger, where are you going?"

"Anywhere where you're not." I spat.

"What? I thought we were going to spend Christmas together!"

"No need, Draco. I get it, I'm going. You don't have a family. Don't have one, don't need one, don't want one. Fine."

"What are you on about? Granger, I-"

"Don't say it!" I hissed. "Don't you _dare_ tell me you love me when you won't even call me your family. This," I gestured between the two of us, "clearly isn't working. If you can't even admit that we're family, and I can't bear to hear you tell me you love me, I don't know why we're still pretending that it is."

Your voice had gone so quiet that I could barely hear it. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying let's stop! Let's stop relying on something that can't get us through it all! Let's quit while we're ahead, because if we're honest, I can't see me and you together five years from now. Three years, Malfoy, and you still find it hard to tell me you love me. Three years, and we're only just living together. Three years, and every day I worry that you're just going to pick up and leave." I paused for breath. "Three years, and I'm still trying to persuade you to spend Christmas with me!"

You were breathing very heavily and very slowly.

"I can't take it any more. This isn't a relationship, Draco, and that's what I want. A relationship. And you clearly aren't going to give me that."

"Granger, I can give you what you want!"

"You still call me by my last name!"

You didn't reply.

Again.

"Love won't get us through this."

I walked out the kitchen and made my way to Harry and Ginny's.

Just like they did every Christmas, they asked me where you were.

And I hated you for making me shrug the question off and give some breezy answer about you having to work.

And I hated you for making me cry in the middle of lunch.

And I hated you for not ever trying to find out how I was.

And I hated you because I loved you.

O

I need you to reply.

I really do.

Hermione.

**A/N: I've actually written the last two chapters now, but I'm not sure if I'm going to use the ending that I've written, because I enjoy writing this so much! =] Ah well, I may upload it all and then do an 'alternative ending' thing. We'll see. If anyone has the time to read through the last two few chapters before I put them on the site, please, please, please message me! I would love to have someone that isn't my dad tell me what they think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter Seven

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Chapter Seven**

**Dedicated to 'muddy worm', whose review made me laugh. Thank you. =]**

I ran after you.

Maybe because you are Draco Malfoy.

Maybe because I am Hermione Granger.

Maybe because it was your birthday.

Maybe because I was drunk.

Or maybe because of everything.

O

I was looking at you, looking at me.

"Granger, I can only give you what I've got."

"I know."

"I'll never be perfect."

"I know."

"I'll always be an arsehole."

I smiled. "I know."

"I'll always love you."

"I know."

"Is that enough, though?"

I didn't say anything.

"Granger, I'm not the kind of guy who can tell you how I feel every day. I'll keep secrets from you, and I can tell you that now for free."

I could tell you were trying to warn me.

Trying to discourage me from forgiving you.

"And Christmas is a bad time for me. I can't be a nice person at Christmas, and I was trying to protect you from me."

My face clouded as I realised what you were saying.

"What happens when we have children? When you do have a family to love? Will you still go places and do things when they want you most?"

You looked away. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

You were walking away, and it started to rain.

And the rain made me realise something.

You weren't perfect.

You weren't even Mr. Right.

You weren't the kind of guy I'd dreamt of as a child.

You didn't get on with my parents.

You hated children.

You hated the very _idea_ of marriage.

Sometimes, you even hated me.

And I knew I shouldn't.

I knew running after you would make me one of those girls that need love like they need air.

If I stayed where I was, I would keep my independence; myself; my god dam _pride_…

But I wouldn't have you.

And that, I think, made all the difference.

O

I'm ill.

That's why I'm writing to you.

You told me not to get in touch, but I need you.

O

I ran.

I ran after you.

I ran into you.

"I need you." I whispered into your shoulder blades.

O

It's not something the Healers can fix.

I need you now more than anything.

O

"You need me?" You repeated, turning on the spot and looking deep into my teary eyes.

"More than anything." I breathed.

O

I love you.

Is that enough?

O

You kissed me then.

It wasn't perfect.

But it was you.

And that was enough.

O

I'm dying.

There.

I need you.

There.

Please write back.

I love you.

Hermione.

**A/N: Just the one more after this, and it's extremely short, I'm afraid!**

**Check out the one-shot I just wrote, "Use This Moment"!**

**And LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! =D**


	8. Epilogue

**Clair de Lune: A Love Story**

**Epilogue**

An owl flew into the room and landed on the table in front Draco Malfoy.

He untied the letter from its leg.

He glanced at the front and recognised the handwriting.

And, just as he had done with all the others, he threw it in the fire.

**A/N: =( Ah, Malfoy. What shall we do with him? Perhaps one day I'll write a fic with a happy ending. Though there was a programme on TV that said for a love story to be a love story, and not just a romance, it had to end tragically. Hence the title. Sorry about this. I've really enjoyed writing it.**

**  
Guess what I want from you…? REVIEWS! =D**

**If you've enjoyed reading this, you may like some of my other stuff too, so be sure to check it out!**


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